The day Shen Yuebai met Song Jinsheng, it was raining. Song Jinsheng stood in the rain holding an oil-paper umbrella, his white shirt blowing in the wind and rain. With a slight smile on his lips, he called her, Shen Yuebai. Shen Yuebai, I know you.
March days always like to have such a misty drizzle. Shen Yuebai's heart was just like this annoying season, wet and sticky, as if it was about to grow moss. Song Jinsheng, am I lucky or unlucky to meet you?
Yang Qian was riding on the horse, holding the whip in his hand. He looked down at her and said, "I'm going to make a decision on you, this woman!" Shen Yuebai raised his head and glared into his eyes, angrily saying, "Why?"
Why are the men in this world so weirder than the last? Is it the world that is changing or is it us? The happiness I want is just to find a secure job so that my mother can feel at ease. But why is it so difficult?